


jenny’s got a body just like an hourglass

by coldville



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Living Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldville/pseuds/coldville
Summary: A fight with his fiancé leaves Lance reeling and without much of a thought, he relapses.
Relationships: Lance & Shiro (Voltron), Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 154





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is reading this, just know that you’re worth it. If you’re reading this because you’re struggling too, you deserve to eat. You are an amazing person who deserves recovery.
> 
> Do not read this if you think it will trigger you.
> 
> NEDA Hotline : 800.931.2237
> 
> TW : restricting + purging/eating disorder relapse

Lance didn’t know how things had gotten so bad so quickly, but it vaguely reminded him of all the pop up storms that were so common in Miami. All sunshine and warm air until it wasn’t, and then warm rain poured down from out of nowhere.

It shouldn’t have gotten this bad, not really. But things weren’t normal as of late. Fights had become less effort than they should have, which led them to now. (Lance really couldn’t tell you how it started- but Shiro could.)

“I don’t understand why you can’t just let us have this!” Lance shouted, voice so strained that it hurt his throat. 

“Because we’ve already talked about it! I’m not ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.” Shiro replied, trying not to match Lance’s shouting. Both of them knew that Lance raised his voice when he got defensive, but that knowledge didn’t shield the younger man from any criticism. 

“You said you would think about it! You promised me! I’m not ready either, I just want you to /think/ about it.” Lance stood on the other side of the kitchen, barely keeping his fidgeting in. He would be pacing around the room if he could, but instead he tapped his fingers against his other arm and kept it to himself. The male had his arms crossed over his chest, making him seem more closed off than he could ever be.

“I’ve thought about it. I’m thinking about it. I don’t know what you want from me, Lance! I’m trying my best and you’re acting like I’m not doing anything! Like I’m not trying!” Shiro had stopped trying to keep himself from raising his voice, seeing as Lance wasn’t trying either. He was staring at Lance from the counter where he had been chopping vegetables for their dinner. The knife had been dropped long ago, left abandoned on the cutting board with the celery he had been chopping. 

“Fuck, Takashi! You’re not- You’re not- Just get out!” Lance shouted. He was glaring bullets at the other man, jaw clenched. 

Shiro’s jaw clenched too, stalking passed Lance. If Lance was letting his insecurities get the better of him like this, then they clearly both needed a break. Shiro would rather talk about this in the morning when they were both level headed and if he /had/ to, he would give Lance some space. 

There was silence as Shiro pulled on his shoes and a coat. Lance watched until Shiro moved to stand up, then quickly turned away. He lifted his chin up, as if to prove that he was somehow better than his fiancé. He wasn’t, Lance knew he wasn’t. In reality, he didn’t want Takashi to leave. He just wanted to make up and apologize profusely for getting angry at him, but he couldn’t. 

Lance had always been good at the extremes- not eating, eating too much, feeling incredibly insecure, flirting with everyone in sight. At this point he only flirted with Takashi, but when they went out he blushed when someone would try to slip him their number. Now, the extreme was kicking his fiancé out and feeling horrible about it. And when Lance finally had the courage to turn around and apologize, the front door was already slamming shut.

“Fuck.” Lance groaned.  
-

Hours passed while Lance sat on the couch, next to his cellphone with nothing in particular in mind. For the first hour Lance had been crying, thinking nonstop. It didn’t take long for him to come to accept the thought that he had brought it upon himself. Shiro had left because of him, Lance had literally made his fiancé leave. 

Vaguely he realized he must have had an anxiety attack at one point during his crying, judging by the exhaustion deep in his bones. That didn’t mean much of anything, not right now. Not when there was no one to comfort him, not when he didn’t deserve it.

Despite this, he still called his mama. Lance wasn’t quite in the mood for all the self pity. His mama wouldn’t be either, and she could tell it to him straight. She always did. 

So that’s exactly what happened. He spilled exactly what had happened to his mom, vaguely recalling why the fight had started in the first place. Some offhanded comment from Lance about how their child would be well fed if Takashi made dinner like that every night. Shiro had gotten upset, understandably in Lance’s now unclouded opinion. The child thing had been pushed onto him from Lance, and his mom made sure to tell him that. Shiro wasn’t ready yet, not until after marriage. Lance knew that and had still pushed it. Lance had been pushing a lot of things lately, and while it wasn’t alright, there was a definite underlying cause.

“I love you, honey. Please talk to him in the morning, you cannot let this go on for too long. Let him know that you love him.” Lance knew that was his mama’s goodbye, so he quickly sniffled and told her he loved her too.

“Don’t forget to eat dinner tonight, mijo. It’s late.” 

“Goodnight, mama.” Lance responded, soon hanging up the phone.

After that, Lance made sure to clean up the kitchen. His fiancé was very particular about how their house needed to be clean. Lance agreed with that wholeheartedly. It was like a tradition to tidy up their house together nightly. The cleaning brought relaxation, and a sense of security that neither of them could replicate without the ritual. It was their home, their shared space, and it was tidy. It was important enough to be constantly be clean and well taken care of. 

Quietly, Lance hummed a soft song. He was swift in the kitchen, throwing out the vegetables Shiro had been chopping up earlier. The other hadn’t even gotten to the meat, but by now it was incredibly thawed out in the sink. Without even thinking, he tossed the meat too. It was just to be safe, he told himself. He told himself a lot of things that justified him throwing out the food. A lot of things that justified not eating anything at all. One missed meal was fine, he would be fine.

He deserved it. And that was the exact train of thought he had been stuck with for so long. To have it back after everything was comforting in a way, but sick in another. 

Lance’s blue eyes searched the kitchen for anything else that needed cleaning, but his mind came up blank. Everything was fine. One glance at the clock told him it was a few minutes past midnight. Quickly, he locked the front and back door. If he was going to get a good night of rest, then peace of mind had to be well established first. That started with cleaning and locking the doors and ended with washing his face and slipping on his pajamas.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re reading this and you think you might have disordered eating, know that you deserve recovery. 
> 
> NEDA Hotline: 800.931.2237
> 
> Please don’t read this if you think you’ll be triggered.
> 
> TW: Restricting + purging. Lance’s current weight is also mentioned.

Morning came slowly, leaving Lance incredibly well rested. He needed it after the mess that was last night, but waking up in bed alone wasn’t the best solution either.

Wordlessly, the man let out a sleepy groan and searched the other side of his bed with his hand. Where was Shiro? It was Saturday and Lance was all alone-

Shiro wasn’t there.

His brain caught up quickly after that, and eventually his blue eyes opened to search his room despite what he already knew. Shiro wasn’t there, he had left the night before per Lance’s not so nicely put request. He hadn’t even fought back, which was what scared Lance the most when he thought about the night before.

Fuck.

Lance usually checked his phone in the mornings, ridding himself of all notifications by breakfast. His phone was...not with him he realized, enough patting the bed had told him that. Slowly, he stood up from the california king sized bed that he usually shared with his partner.

He let out a strangled groan as he stretched further, startling himself as he did so. After such a long time of silence it was startling to realize that those groans were coming from him— not attractive at all, something Lance strived to be.

“Nice.” He muttered to himself, padding down the stairs to the living room. That’s where he had been sitting most of the night. After a little bit of searching he found it wedged between the couch cushions, and he promptly grabbed it and flopped onto the gray couch. He bounced a little from plopping down, and an intrusive thought struck him.

_You bounced because you’re fat._

And Lance didn’t know enough about couch physics to tell himself he was wrong. The thought weighed on him though. He /knew/ he wasn’t fat. He was a good weight, even if he didn’t know the exact number. 170 looked good on him, especially with his broad shoulders and his body type. He looked good, nothing like the lanky boy he used to be. Lance wasn’t in danger because of his weight anymore and the fact that it was starting to bother him again was fucked up.

His phone dinged with a text and Lance was brought back to himself. There were around four texts on his lock screen, and a plethora of texts in his messenger notifications. Texts he hadn’t seen last night, too busy with calling his mom.

His lock screen read :

[Mullet Man, 9:42] : Can you stop being an asshole and ignoring Shiro?

[Takashi<3, 9:15] : I’m going to come home soon. I want to talk about last night.

[Takashi<3, 9:10] : Good morning

Lance’s heart raced as he read the messages on his lock screen, unsure of what to do now. It was already ten in the morning and that made it seem like all Lance was doing was ignoring Shiro. It didn’t help that he was usually up before then, since he and Shiro were usually in bed by midnight. Lance had gotten in bed at half past midnight, and actually fallen asleep by at least two.

Unlocking his phone only fueled the fire that was making his heart race so fast. [5] Was the number at the top of his message app, leaving Lance to internally panic just a little more.

Takashi’s messages were the majority of the bulk in his inbox, but there was one from Keith too. Lance scrolled to the top of his missed messages, and frowned in response. He hadn’t even /seen/ those last night.

[Takashi<3, 19:15] : I’m staying with Keith tonight to give you some space. I’ll be back in the morning.

[Takashi<3, 22:23] : Make sure to eat some dinner. If you didn’t finish the dinner I was making there’s a sandwich in the fridge.

[Takashi<3, 23:11] : I love you. Sleep well

[Takashi<3, 09:15] : I’m going to come home soon. I want to talk about last night.

Lance’s frown deepened as he read all of the messages together. It just seemed like Lance had been ignoring his fiancé purposely. He hadn’t been, he had just been thinking for a long time, and had spaced out in the process.

He quickly sent a text to try and redeem himself.

[Lance, 10:02] : I’m awake now. I didn’t see your messages last night, i’m sorry

[Takashi<3, 10:05]: Do you want me to bring home breakfast for you? Keith made pancakes

Lance let out a sob of relief. If Shiro was offering breakfast that meant- No. He didn’t need to rely on Takashi like that. It went against everything he had learned when he was recovering. He didn’t need his fiancé to validate him in order to eat. But at the same time....he wanted it so badly. He wanted the validation that came with being offered food. That meant he deserved it.

Despite that....

[Lance, 10:05] : We have food at home

[Takashi<3, 10:06] : We do. I bet one of your signature smoothies and some oatmeal would be good

[Lance, 10:07] : You’re obsessed with my smoothies. It’s just fruit and milk haha

[Takashi<3, 10:07] : All the best things are

Lance let out a small laugh, feeling infinitely lighter. Things were okay between them. They would be okay.

[Takashi<3, 10:08] : I’ll be home in 30

[Lance, 10:08] : See you then :*

[Takashi<3, 10:08] : :*

Lance set his phone down on the coffee table after going through all of his notifications. He didn’t send much to Keith, because he wasn’t trying to be an asshole and he didn’t want to be called that. Keith was met with a ‘👎’ and that was that. He didn’t owe Keith an explanation, not really. Shiro would have given him one anyway.

Still in his pajamas, Lance walked into the kitchen. He was humming a song again, something by Walk The Moon. _I wanna be the sand inside that hourglass._ Something about getting with a hot girl.

He padded to the gray fridge and opened the door, gathering a few strawberries, a banana, and some milk. That would be enough for himself, and he would be full until lunch. It filled up one of their long and skinny cups most of the way, so it was probably enough.

Lance didn’t count things anymore, he really tried not to. Even though he knew how much was in nearly everything. If he didn’t know how many strawberries he had, he couldn’t count. If he didn’t know how much his banana weighed, he couldn’t count. If he didn’t know how much milk he used, he couldn’t count.

With a few plops of the cut and washed fruit into the blender and some milk poured in, he couldn’t count.

He wouldn’t count.

Shiro got home nearly thirty minutes later, just like he said he would. Traffic wasn’t too bad at ten in the morning, but it would only get worse throughout the day. Saturday’s were the worst.

When Lance heard the front door swing open with a creak that /really/ needed to be fixed, he was kneeling by the toilet in their shared bathroom. He had been taking a shower when his intrusive thoughts had consumed him.

And Lance was weak. _So weak._

Eventually he made his way down the stairs, hair wet and mouth tasting like strawberries and bile. Lance was actually dressed at this point, wearing a pair of dark basketball shorts and a white t-shirt.

When he was met with the sight of his fiancé in the living room, sitting at the couch so casually, Lance almost burst into tears. His own eyes were already red rimmed from the vomiting and he had been actually crying at one point.

He wanted it to be okay, and he definitely did not want to admit that he had a slip up because of the fight that /he/ had caused last night. That was one of the most embarrassing things ever. Lance would never be able to live with himself after that, especially because it would scare his fiancé. If they couldn’t even fight without Lance relapsing...

“Hey.” Lance greeted, long legs taking him to the couch.

“Hey yourself.” Shiro nodded, taking in the sight of Lance. He looked tired. “Did you sleep last night?”

“I did. Did you?” Lance murmured, sitting next to Shiro. He left enough space so they would be able to face each other for when they actually talked about last night.

“Somewhat.” There was something in the silence that followed that alerted Lance to what might have happened.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

More silence followed and Shiro looked ashamed. He wasn’t making eye contact, which was practically an answer in itself.

They really needed each other.

“Takashi...” Lance’s hand hovered over the other’s shoulder. “It was wrong of me to kick you out. I didn’t- I didn’t think you would actually leave.”

Shiro blushed, pulling Lance into a hug. “Well I did. I wanted to give you space- you asked me for it. To be honest I didn’t want to leave either.”

Lance hugged him back, “I guess we both kind of suck at communication.” He snickered, pulling back to look at Shiro. “I promise not to say anything like that again. I don’t want you to leave. Ever.”

The mood turned a little more solemn and Takashi finally nodded. “I don’t want to leave either.” He held up his left hand, showing off his ring finger.

They weren’t married yet, but they had picked out their wedding rings together. Something to symbolize their togetherness, and for the ceremony they would give them to each other again.

Lance smiled softly, raising his own left hand. They intertwined their fingers and Lance leaned against Takashi’s chest in the way that always made him relax.

Now that everything was settled and there was no more talking...

“Lance, why do you smell like vomit?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be at least another chapter! It will focus on the fact that sometimes we all have slip ups, and that we still deserve recovery and to be at our healthiest. It will focus on the comfort aspect a lot!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEDA Hotline : 1-800-931-2237
> 
> TW: Past mentions of restricting and purging + ed content.
> 
> Don’t read if this content triggers you!! Ily guys
> 
> This chapter took forever because I didn’t really work on it! Glad I’m finished though. Also i kind of want to write a story based on lances college experience with an ed but idk.

There had always been wrong with the way Lance processed other people’s opinions. Even when he was younger, he took everything personally. 

_“Ven aquí, gordito.”_ His aunt would say, calling him over to ruffle his hair.  Lance didn’t know what that word actually meant until he was older. And even then he knew it was affectionate, she wasn’t actually calling him fat. (But she was in a way, and Lance took that to heart when he was only twelve years old.) 

Fear and guilt all at once washed over Lance like the way a cold shower would, leaving him speechless on Shiro’s chest. How could he explain this to him? How could he explain without admitting that he messed up? Without worrying his fiancé? He couldn’t, not really. 

“I-I-“ Lance wasn’t able to stutter out much more than that, even when Shiro’s comforting hand came down on his back.

_He was reminded of the first time he had met Shiro. In college Lance hadn’t been the best at remembering things. He was on his own for the first time with a newfound control over the food that he ate. Restricting and purging became the only way he knew how to function.That new dynamic took control over him, much more than it did when he was in high school. Everything was easier on his own. The memory problems became existent because of all of his restricting, and so when he failed his calculus test because he couldn’t remember hardly anything, he found a tutor to help him through it._

_Shiro had put a hand on his shoulder and told him that everything would be okay. Lance supposed he was right, and hadn’t been shy about shooting a grateful, yet somehow flirtatious smile Shiro’s way._

Years later he came home with a diploma to keep right next to Shiro’s. He had been right after all, after all those years of hard work and small sacrifices. Things had gotten better in more ways than one.

And even now they still found a way to torment him when he was supposed to be recovered. Completely. “I didn’t-“ Lance closed his eyes to brace himself for what he was trying to say. Tears burned at closed eyelids anyway. “I threw up after my shower.” 

Shiro didn’t know how to take that, he really didn’t. So instead of speaking right away, his other hand came up to feel Lance’s hair. It was still damp. Lance pressed up into the hand, desperately needing more touch than he already had.

“I didn’t mean to. I mean I did, but I didn’t? I was just thinking in my shower, and it was so hard after I made you leave last night. I felt so bad.” Tears were slowly starting to slip down Lance’s cheeks, since he had opened his eyes to beg for forgiveness in some sort of way. Like his fiancé would be angry with him for relapsing. 

“Okay, okay.” Shiro whispered, running a hand down Lance’s back. He rubbed softly and moved to kiss Lance’s damp hair. “What did you throw up?”

“M-My smoothie.” 

Shiro nodded softly and held Lance close. There wasn’t much to be done at this point, but he could ask a few questions to give himself an idea of where Lance was right now. Shiro wasn’t a therapist by any means, but he wanted to help his fiancé. He couldn’t just send Lance to his therapist and ignore the problems that could be worked on at home. Like eating meals together, talking through them so that Lance could eat without thinking too hard about what was in his meal.

“Did you rinse your mouth out with water after?” Harm reduction was incredibly important. 

Lance nodded softly, tears still spilling freely. He wanted to sob, to just be held against Takashi’s chest and comforted. He didn’t want to lose his fiancés trust. 

“Hey, it’ll be okay. You already made it this far. You can do it again.”

And Shiro held Lance until they were both calm.

Lance went to brush his teeth after he had calmed down. 

Shiro was downstairs, rubbing his face as he tried to plan a gentle meal for Lance’s stomach. When Lance was beginning to recover they had a lot of soup and bread and apples. It was basically like a shitty at home cafeteria. Since then, they had moved onto more daring foods— cultural foods and even food that Lance used to be afraid of. 

Lance used to look in the mirror obsessively and sometimes he still did, but a sense of pride settled deep in his chest lately. Weight restoration and then some, but he was proud of his body now. It had been so hard, but he was here now. 

So Lance just brushed his teeth, taking his time to rinse out his mouth with mouthwash. He stumbled over the mess of blankets that he had undoubtedly kicked to the floor earlier that morning, and decided to make the bed while he was in the process of tripping over myself.

When Lance came downstairs his fiancé was sitting in their kitchen. He had a list written out, since he was a dork that liked to write all of their recipes down. “Pasta salad or soup?” 

Lance’s fingers twitched at his sides and for a moment he wanted to run. He didn’t. “If we have soup and bread I can cut up some apples and cucumber on the side.”

“Good deal.”

Lance and Shiro sat at the table, enjoying each other’s company. Lance ate slowly, trying to avoid an upset stomach. Shiro talked about work, Lance laughed and told him how weird his coworkers were. 

Lance talked about a new tv show he was watching, something in Spanish that was just dramatic enough to catch his attention. 

After lunch Lance was excited to show Shiro the show, settling on his fiancés lap and watching with big eyes. Lance would point to the tv and say ‘watch this part!’ occasionally, but Shiro /was/ watching and he just nudged his Lance lazily at that. ‘I am.’ He would say exasperated, and then they would laugh and end up missing the part anyway.

That happened at least twice.

Lance burrowed comfortably into Takashi’s chest, sighing softly. He was sleepy, both of them could tell. “I promise I would never try to divorce you and murder you like she did in that episode.”

Shiro snorted, rubbing his back. “You better not.”

If they fell asleep together on the couch, then who could blame them?

-

A day later, Lance sat across from his therapist, Kolivan. He had had a lot to tell him, but they ended the session on a more serious note.

“So, do you think you’re back to square one after this weekend?”

Lance thought about where he had started, about all he had overcome. He smiled.

“No. Not at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would anybody be interested in another story? I really like whumps and mission gone wrong’s in general. Also sickfics. I really just adore hurt/comfort in general. Any suggestions?

**Author's Note:**

> I’m thinking this will be about three chapters! Updates will come soon!


End file.
